


Pon Farr

by VTsuion



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage, No Sex, Pon Farr, Vulcan Bond, Vulcan Culture, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22012987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VTsuion/pseuds/VTsuion
Summary: For Vulcans, pon farr is an unavoidable disturbance, for a human, it can be dangerous. Ancient texts suggest that some Vulcans have been able to survive through intense meditation, but it's risky. Spock is willing to take the risk to spare Kirk, but Kirk refuses to let him go through it alone.Warning: Dubious consent due to the nature of pon farr, though no one actually has sex.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 11
Kudos: 165





	Pon Farr

The one thing James Kirk could say for the Vulcan mating cycle was that it was predictable. It happened every seven years like clockwork. Therefore, he was not surprised when Spock bolted up in bed in the middle of the night and declared, “It is time.”

Jim didn't have to ask what he meant. He contacted the bridge straight from their quarters and ordered, “Set course for Vulcan, as fast as she'll go.”

He turned back to Spock and declared with a wry smile, “It looks like we're finally getting married.”

Spock frowned, his expression already exaggerated beyond his usual restraint. “I maintain that it is too dangerous,” he insisted, anger flashing in his brown eyes. “I will go down alone.”

Jim rubbed his partner’s shoulder in an attempt to soothe him. “I'll just be there for moral support.” Jim's expression hardened. “And if it doesn't work, I'm not letting you die just to spare me a rough night.” He squeezed Spock's shoulder for emphasis.

Spock's frown remained but he nodded in assent. “You have suffered too much on my account already.”

“I could say the same about you.” Jim tried to meet Spock's eyes, but his partner's gaze was fixed upon the floor, so he settled for brushing his hand over Spock's knuckles, sending as much comfort and affection through the contact as he could.

“It'll be nice to have you in my mind all the time,” Jim mused. “They think we’re the best command team in the fleet now, but they haven't seen anything yet.”

Spock quirked a skeptical eyebrow at him, finally meeting Jim's eyes.

“That's more like it,” Jim declared with a soft smile. “Now let's get you to sickbay so Bones can keep an eye on you and make sure you're not doing any worse than you should be.” He could not wait for this whole ordeal to be behind them.

“Dr. McCoy will not be pleased to be awoken at this hour,” Spock remarked.

“He'll live,” Jim retorted and made to call the doctor's quarters.

* * *

The Vulcan sun beat down on Jim's shoulders. His formal uniform itched against his sweaty skin. The thin air made his head feel light despite the shot of an actual tri-ox compound that Bones had given him in preparation for beaming down. He tried to brace himself for the ceremony.

“How are you holding up?” Bones asked, his eyes narrowed as though he was waiting for Jim to start displaying the same symptoms Spock was.

Jim and his wedding party of one were waiting on the edge of a rocky outcropping overlooking the place of Koon-ut-kal-if-fee; a circular arena ringed with stone structures, connected to the surrounding plateau by narrow stone bridges. Spock was already standing on a raised dais in the center, ready to begin the ceremony.

Jim shrugged. “I don't have too much to complain about; Spock has it a lot worse than I do.” His partner - soon to be bondmate - was feverish to the touch and undoubtedly in pain, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. His behavior over the past week had been erratic to say the least, egged on by alien hormones.

Bones shot Jim a skeptical look.

“Don't worry, we're not going to fight to the death this time,” Jim said with an attempt at a wry smile.

“You're damn right,” Bones exclaimed. “I won't be able to save you from him this time.”

“You haven't forgotten any monitors, have you?” Jim tried to keep his tone light, but he could hear his nerves sneak into his voice.

“You're both hooked up to everything I could possibly think of and then some,” Bones confirmed. He hesitated. “I just hope his crazy idea works. I don't want you two moping around for the next seven years.”

Jim shook his head, but before he could reply, the sound of a gong echoed in their ears.

“That's my cue,” Jim declared with an attempt at a grin.

T'Pau and her entourage led the way down the path, followed by Jim, and Bones took up the rear. Jim stopped at the edge of the rock-lined arena as T'Pau's assistants lowered her chair onto the dais. Spock stood before her, his body wracked with tension, almost curling in on itself. His hands were tented before his face as though in an attempt at mediation.

His eyes met Jim’s and his fiery gaze seemed to bore into Jim's skull. Jim took in a deep breath to steel his nerves, but the air was still too thin and he was only left feeling out of breath.

Spock and T'Pau greeted each other, their right hands raised in the ta’al. He approached and she touched one hand to his face in a brief meld.

Then, she turned to Jim. “Thee art no longer a stranger to our ways.”

Jim nodded in response.

“James Kirk, does thee accept the mating according to our laws and customs?” He could see concern hidden in her unwavering Vulcan eyes.

Spock convulsed and began to croak out a word of protest, but T'Pau motioned for silence.

Jim gave another solemn nod. “I accept.”

He did not challenge, of course, and so Spock rang the gong again.

“Step forward, James Kirk,” T'Pau instructed. “I will now bond thee to thine mate.”

“Good luck,” Bones whispered.

Jim stepped forward to join Spock on the dias. That, at least, was where he belonged; at Spock's side.

“Initiate the meld,” T'Pau said.

Spock reached out, his whole arm shaking. Still, somehow he managed to gently place a hand on Jim's face, his fingers pressed against Jim's psy points. As always, Jim leaned into the touch and reached for Spock's mind with his own.

For an instant, he felt a desperate apology and then he was overwhelmed with pain that he knew was not his own. His skin burned everywhere except for the tips of the fingers touching his own face. His blood seemed to course like fire through his veins. It was all he could do to remain upright and not collapse on the spot.

Before he could begin to attempt to think through the haze, it faded as another hand rested on each of his faces - one on Jim and one on Spock.

“Parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched,” the three recited in unison.

“The bond is complete,” T'Pau declared, withdrawing her hands.

The pain surged back full force. Jim did not notice that Spock had pulled away until they were ushered out of the sun, into a tent prepared for them to complete the ritual.

Jim breathed a shaky sigh of relief. Inside, in the comparatively cool shade, he could begin to think clearly. The pain was Spock's, not his own. He could feel the distance even as it burned across his skin and through his body.

He only had an instant of warning as the pain heightened to an unbearable peak and felt a flash of intent before Spock grabbed him by the shoulders so tight it hurt more than the ghostly burn, and forced him to the ground. His heart raced and panic rose like bile in his throat - they had failed already. Spock loomed over him, his face distorted with rage and pain, ready to do anything to ease it.

And then he saw his own face through the bond, his eyes wide with fear. He felt a surge of disgust and Spock threw himself backwards, away from Jim.

Jim lay there a moment longer, attempting to catch his breath as Spock watched him through wary eyes, bright with fear and pain. The burn was becoming unbearable again.

Jim forced himself upright and inched toward his partner, crouched over so that their eyes were at the same level. He tried to project as much calm as he could through the new bond.

“Can you meditate?” He asked when they were less than a foot apart, his voice as level as he could make it.

Spock forced his eyes closed and nodded. Slowly, he straightened his legs and crossed them in front of him. His back remained bent, hardly his usual perfect posture.

“We'll get through this,” Jim muttered, as much to himself as Spock.

Spock's muscles were tense and his breathing ragged as he fought the pain, fought the one thing that he knew would banish it.

There was only one thing Jim could think to do to help his partner - his bondmate. He circled around Spock, projecting his intentions as clearly as he could, and sat down right behind him. Then, with an aching arm, he began to rub circles into Spock’s back, slowly massaging out the tension. The rough material of his uniform was too much against Spock's sensitive skin, made more sensitive by the fever, so Jim reached below it and began to work at his burning back.

Spock immediately relaxed into his touch. Through the bond he could feel his cool hands chasing away the fever. The rest of Spock's body still burned, but it was enough. Spock focused on the cooling sensation and meditated on it, let it fill both their minds until the pain only lingered in the remotest corners.

Jim massaged his bondmate, his hands traveling the course of his back thousands of times, until his arms ached and his hands grew numb. Eventually, the heat of the day faded outside, leaving them in darkness.

At long last, the fever waned. Jim felt a burst of relief and guilt and then Spock collapsed where he sat. Spock’s exhaustion combined with Jim’s own crashed over him, but Jim forced his eyes to remain open long enough to untangle Spock's legs and lay him out on his back.

He was about to go and find a doctor, when the flaps of the tent opened and in stepped a Vulcan healer.

“Is he alright?” Jim demanded.

She surveyed Jim and Spock for a long moment before she asked, her eyes wide in disbelief, “He succeeded at overcoming it?”

Jim nodded. “Is he okay?” he asked urgently.

She stepped over to Spock and waved a compact scanner over him, not too different from the ones Bones used on away missions. Finally, she reported, “He has sustained minimal damage. There is a ninety nine point nine seven percent chance of a full recovery.”

She turned to Jim and waved the scanner over him, lingering on his bare shoulders - Jim hadn't even noticed his shirt tearing.

“You have sustained minimal damage. He has achieved a remarkable feat of logic,” she said.

“It was his human side that saved me,” Jim couldn't help but reply with an affectionate glance back at his sleeping bondmate.

“Perhaps his human heritage weakened the blood fever,” she assented, almost sounding a little smug.

Jim was too tired to argue. He just shook his head and let her go. Finally, he lay down on the ground beside Spock and succumbed to sleep.

* * *

Jim awoke in an unfamiliar location, in a hard bed molded to the contours of an alien body. He could feel Spock beside him, sleeping soundly. He reached for Spock's side and felt the reassuring heartbeat in his hand, faster than a human’s even in a deep sleep.

Jim was just thinking of going to look for a doctor to check on Spock, when guilt and reassurance answered his concern through the waves of exhaustion emanating from the bond. Jim tried to convey relief and reassurance of his own, and it seemed to work as Spock’s mind quickly returned to sleep.

Jim shifted in bed, searching for a comfortable position so he could give in to the sleepiness coming from within and without, but the bed was moulded in such a way that he could only sleep on his back and he wasn’t quite tired enough to just surrender to it. His stomach growled insistently, unwilling to let him sleep even if he could get comfortable. He rolled his aching shoulders and forced himself out of bed.

* * *

Jim was sitting in the living room of Spock’s parents’ home on Vulcan, reading, when he felt a sudden burst of sensation - Spock was finally awake. A wide grin spread across his face. He put the book aside and hurried back to the bedroom as Spock stood and began to dress. He had donned his robe by the time Jim entered.

He was struck with the peculiar sensation of seeing himself open the door and step into the room. Everything in his mind seemed to echo through the bond, making it hard to think clearly.

“May I?” Jim heard the question before Spock asked. He both felt and saw him extend his arm for a meld.

“Of course.” The words echoed in both their minds.

They both stepped closer, as though propelled by the same thought, until they were nearly touching. And then Spock closed the distance and their minds collided with nothing to hold them apart.

They drifted in freefall, unable to tell where Jim ended and Spock began, unable to fathom that they had even once been separate beings, and not merely two parts of a single whole. It took the recollection of the events of the other day - so close to the front of both their minds - to disentangle them enough for Spock to gain a handle on their newly formed bond.

Slowly they faded apart until only a quiet surface stream of thoughts and sensations crossed between them. Only then did Spock step back, though the connection between their minds remained; parted and never parted, never and always touching and touched.

“Thanks,” Jim said with a shake of his head to clear it. “That's a lot more manageable.”

“It is not logical to thank,” Spock said calmly, but Jim could feel the guilt behind his words.

“I don't think I could ever thank you enough,” Jim said with a smile.

“You are the one who saved my life,” Spock replied, cutting to the point.

“Just returning the favor.” Jim grinned and put a hand on his bondmate's shoulder.

Spock frowned, due to the remnants of pon farr or because of the link between their minds, Jim did not know. “I lost control. I know your shoulders are damaged, and you are fortunate it is not worse.”

Jim pulled off his shirt, exposing his dark purple shoulders. “It's just a bruise.”

Spock reached out to touch them and Jim flinched away without thinking. Jim’s eyes widened as he realized what he had done.

“You are certain you do not wish to absolve the bond?” Spock asked.

“Of course not,” Jim exclaimed. He took Spock's hand and placed it on his shoulder for good measure. His warm touch began to soothe the dull ache.

“I have betrayed your trust,” Spock insisted and pulled his hand away.

“You gave me a bit of a fright,” Jim admitted, “but you weren't yourself. As soon as you realized what was going on you stopped and pulled yourself together. It's not your fault - you didn't even want me to be there in the first place.”

“Next time, you will not accompany me,” Spock said. Jim could feel his voice resonating with emotion.

“What are your chances of survival if I'm not there?” Jim demanded.

Spock did not need to answer; Jim sensed his initial estimate through the bond.

“That settles it,” Jim said. “I didn't go through all of this just for you to die in seven years.” He held Spock's gaze and he could tell that Spock felt his determination.

At last, Spock nodded. “I would feel the same if I were in your position,” he admitted.

“Good,” Jim said. A smile slowly crossed his lips.

He felt Spock's intent before he even began to raise his arm.

“Go ahead,” Jim said, though he didn't need to say it aloud.

Spock reached out an arm and slowly placed it on Jim's bruised shoulder. Again he felt a rush of warmth and their bond intensified with the skin to skin contact. He could feel Spock's guilt pouring out with his affection. He put his hand on Spock's and sent out his own comfort to meet it.

Spock met Jim's eyes and gave him a weak, very small smile, that was pretty big by his standards. His eyes shone.

“We ought to celebrate our marriage properly,” Jim remarked with a grin.

“You intend to celebrate our bonding?”

“Of course,” Jim said. “What do you say? Will you marry me, Mr. Spock?”

“I am already bonded to you for life. If you wish to be married according to the human custom, then I have no objection.”

“I promise it'll be much more enjoyable, though it's just a legal agreement and a party, so it doesn't come with anything as nice as the bond.”

* * *

The next time there was a lull in their voyage, the senior staff and as many officers as could fit crammed onto the narrow observation deck of the USS _Enterprise_. At the far end of the room, a little removed from the crowd, stood the captain and his first officer. Captain Kirk wore his formal best and First Officer Spock was a rare sight in Vulcan robes. Behind them was Dr. McCoy, also in his formal uniform, officiating.

Jim surveyed the crowd with a smile, before turning back to his bondmate. Spock's gaze was fixed on him, his bemused expression only brushing the surface of the emotion Jim could feel pouring through their bond.

Spock knew it was illogical to gather in such a formal manner to announce the formation of a personal relationship which already existed and all present were already aware of. However, there was something surprisingly gratifying in the sight of all their friends and colleagues cheering them on with such enthusiasm, celebrating something they did not even fully understand.

Jim grinned and brushed his hand against Spock's, just to savor the warmth and the full force of their bond.

“Hold your horses!” Dr. McCoy grumbled, though his smile ruined the effect. “You’re not supposed to kiss yet!”

Jim hastily removed his hand as the gathered officers laughed. Spock's cheeks flushed a pale green. They would never be able to get away with sneaking contact on the bridge again, but Jim found a little teasing was a small price to pay.


End file.
